


in the spirit

by youcouldmakealife



Series: but always in tandem [11]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 00:25:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7735876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Best Behavior Robbie isn’t Georgie’s Best Friend Robbie, or even Georgie’s Casual Acquaintance Robbie. Best Behavior Robbie is Polite if He Cannot Avoid Georgie Robbie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the spirit

After Quincy bawls him out, Robbie makes sure to be on his very best behavior. Best Behavior Robbie isn’t Georgie’s Best Friend Robbie, or even Georgie’s Casual Acquaintance Robbie. Best Behavior Robbie is Polite if He Cannot Avoid Georgie Robbie. Robbie’s played with dudes he disliked before, played with dudes he’s uncomfortable with. Has played with extra homophobic assholes he steered clear of as much as possible, afraid the next thing they said would make him snap and let them know they were already sharing a room with a faggot, and look, not molested yet! And won’t be with that shit personal hygiene, gross.  


Quincy’s made it very clear every single year that he won’t tolerate homophobic shit, so the Caps have been blessedly free of the overt stuff — Robbie’s not saying there isn’t any shit, but it’s probably the kind of shit only he’s noticing — so Robbie’s out of practice, but he remembers the drill. Robbie figures the best plan is to treat Georgie like he's one of those douchebags: careful to stay away as much as possible, polite enough if he can’t avoid it, and teeth firmly in his tongue before he can say something he regrets. With less of the whole ‘wouldn’t fuck you ever, don’t worry’, since, you know. Too late for that one. It’d be more ‘go die in a fire, you fucking asshole’, which Quincy likely wouldn’t be too impressed with.

Robbie thinks he’s doing mostly okay, barring a couple slips, reflexive hostility that thankfully hasn’t been observed by anyone but Georgie. It’s exhausting, though. It's not exactly easy to avoid the guy you play almost every shift with, not if you want to play well, at least. Robbie’s not going to fuck the Caps over out of spite, especially because he’d be fucking himself over in the bargain. So, Best Behavior Robbie. Grits his teeth, smiles through those gritted teeth, and counts the days until Christmas break.  


Robbie’s been kind of leery about Christmas since he started playing with the Caps. Visiting his parents is fine, going home is going home, but you get everyone in one place and there’s always some kind of Lombardi drama going on. This year it’s just immediate family, or, whatever, papa and his kids and their kids, so Robbie’s hoping it’s a little less liable to explode or end with his mamma crying, but there’s no real guarantee. Still, it’s the most he’s looked forward to it in years, and he flies back to Boston with a sense of optimism and fundamental relief.  


It starts out okay. First night it’s just him staying over at his parents, and they chill and watch TV, early to bed and early to rise. Isabella’s family is coming over tomorrow afternoon, Tony’s family tomorrow evening, and Robbie doesn’t think he’s the only one gathering his strength for tomorrow.  


“God grant me the serenity—” Robbie murmurs over the sound of the doorbell on Christmas Eve. His mother gives him a sharp look when his father goes to answer the door, but doesn’t actually stop him from reciting the rest. He bets she’s reciting it in her head right with him.  


“Uncle Robbie!” is his first greeting, followed by a bullet, and Robbie catches Gabbie before she headbutts him in the chest.  


“Hey,” Robbie says. “It’s something important today, right?”  


“Yes,” she says.  


“Christmas Eve, right?” Robbie asks.  


“Uncle _Robbie_ ,” she scowls.  


“Yeah, yeah, come to my room, I’ve got a birthday present for you,” Robbie says.

Gabbi tells him all about the big family party they had for her birthday last weekend, frowning that they didn’t do it on her actual birthday and that Robbie wasn’t there for the big bash. Robbie isn't going to explain logistics to eleven year old, just hands her present over, figuring that’ll do the atoning. She’ll forgive him enough quick once she unwraps the Chapman jersey he got for her.

He called Isabella last week, checking who Gabbi's latest Caps crush was, and Isabella informed him David's 'so cute'. Honestly, as guys on the Caps go, she picked a pretty good one, and thank fuck she hasn’t decided Georgie was the crush-worthy Capital. Gabbi's not that interested in the hockey part: she’s more of a ‘who’s the cutest?’ than ‘who’s the best?’, so David being the fucking bomb is kind of secondary to her interest in him. But hey, at least she’s rocking the Caps shit and not like, massively into One Direction or something instead, so Robbie will consider himself lucky.

“Not signed?” she asks. That's probably a sign he’s been spoiling her, but she’s his favorite, since Tony’s boys are all basically savages. It’s not like it’s hard to elbow one of the guys and make him sign a jersey, especially when he mentions the adoring little girl thing. It literally made Matty’s week the first time he met Gabbi, years back, and she breathlessly informed him that if she could marry anyone in the world it’d be him. He’s clearly been supplanted by Chaps, but. Robbie’s a nice guy, he won’t let Matty know that.

“Thought you could meet him next time we come to Boston so he can sign it himself for you,” Robbie says, and winces when she wraps her arms around him and shrieks at him, but hey. Successful uncle-ing, achieved.

“You’d better be paying for that game,” Isabella’s husband Nick says once Gabbi’s bounced downstairs, Robbie in tow, to show him, then off to the kitchen to show Isabella and his ma. “You know how much Bruins tickets cost?”

“Tickets for everyone under the tree,” Robbie says. Weren’t cheap, either, it’s not like he gets some hometown discount, but he’s sure as shit not going to complain, because Tony and Nick would probably jump right down his throat if he said a fucking word about it. Last Christmas Tony muttered about how going to see Robbie play was hardly a fucking gift, but the boys were excited, if more to see the Bruins live than anything, so Robbie can deal with more of Tony’s bullshit this year to do the standout uncle thing.

“Fine,” Nick says. “I’m not wearing Caps shit.”  


“Nobody asked you to,” Robbie says. “I’m going to see if they need help in the kitchen.”

“They’re just going to kick you out,” Nick mutters, which is, in fact, what happens, but that gives Robbie a chance to duck upstairs. He’s not playing tonight, but afternoon naps are a good routine to keep in practice with, and sleeping sure as shit beats talking to Nick without Isabella playing peacemaker. Double for Tony, and Robbie needs his strength if he’s going to deal with that for another year.

He gets about an hour before mamma knocks, sharp. “Napping?” she asks. “You five years old or something?” 

“Or something,” Robbie says.

“Tony’s here,” she says, then, “Yeah, yeah, not this again,” when Robbie can’t hide a grimace in time. 

“He always starts it,” Robbie mutters.

“You five years old?” she repeats, pointed. “Fix your hair before you come down. And don’t drag your feet.”

“Okay, ma,” Robbie says. “I’m coming.”

She pauses in the doorway. “You okay, topolino?” she asks.

“Naps are _totally normal_ in my profession,” Robbie says.

“That’s not what I meant,” she says.

“Sure,” Robbie says. “Everything’s fine, why wouldn’t it be?”

“With Georgie on—” she starts.

“Everything’s fine,” Robbie snaps. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she says. “Fix your hair before you come down.”

“You already told me that,” Robbie says.

“You already forgot,” she says, and Robbie can’t even argue, because she’s right. Robbie’s not sure if he can blame that one on Georgie for steering the conversation off the rails, but hell, he can try.

*  


Robbie likes Francis a lot. That sounds stupid, like some kind of high school holding hands hands in the hallway bullshit. Robbie didn’t exactly have that whole experience. To be fair, at his school the straight dudes didn’t either, because that’s what all boys schools will do to you. Still, Robbie didn’t have anything even close, so maybe he’s allowed to do the asinine ‘ooh, my first boyfriend’ bullshit considering, like. Francis _is_ his first boyfriend. He’s Francis’ too, which he didn’t expect but makes him feel a little better about that fluttery holding hands feeling, not that they’re holding hands in the halls or street or anywhere but their rooms. It’s surprisingly cool to just chill, watch a movie, link your fingers with someone just because you want to touch them, because they want to touch you. Robbie’s never had that. It’s nice.

The whole tentative in the room only thing is great, it’s perfect for Robbie. He's concerned that Francis thinks it’s temporary though, just tentative new relationship stuff. That he expects shit Robbie doesn’t really plan on giving right now, and that’s not fair. Relationship false advertising. So two weeks into dating Francis, Robbie finally bucks up and lets himself bring up that unpleasant piece of business, which is that he’s out to like, a handful of people, and at the moment he’s not interested in changing that. Not ashamed, just not particularly inclined to go around telling people.

“Sure, I get it,” Francis says.  


“Like…you’re okay if I don’t bring you out to meet the team?” Robbie asks.  


“Don’t want to meet them, honestly,” Francis says. “Hockey players are the worst.”  


“Great,” Robbie says, then, “ _Hey_.”  


Robbie thought it’d be a bigger deal. Like, ‘hey, I want you to be my boyfriend but also like…no way in hell am I introducing you to pretty much anyone as my boyfriend, that cool?’. That's a shitty as hell thing to ask of someone. He kind of thought the answer would be ‘no, not fucking cool’, but Francis is surprisingly chill about the ‘on the down low’ thing. 

Robbie tentatively prods to make sure he’s actually cool and not just saying it, and turns out it’s not so surprising. Francis may be out on campus, but he's closeted as fuck with his family. They're the kind of fucking douchebags who think homosexuality’s some psychological disorder or some shit. Francis isn’t all that big on telling people if he doesn’t know how they’ll react, which Robbie gets. Like, personally, but extra in Francis’ case.  


For the first time, Robbie’s kind of grateful the worst he got was his nonna saying she’d pray for him and she loved him ‘anyway’, his papa telling him he ‘better not be the one taking it’ and avoiding him for two days before he gave him a hug and said he was proud of him. For what, Robbie still doesn’t know — Robbie’s about as proud as he is ashamed, which is to say…not, but whatever. Francis’ family is a bunch of shits. Robbie told his mamma he has a boyfriend and she said, ‘what’s his name?’ not, like. Repent!  


The team might not know Robbie has a boyfriend, but obviously Georgie does. Like, because Robbie told him, but he also met Francis about a week ago when he swung by Robbie’s room at an…unfortunate moment. Robbie was totally cool with ignoring the knocking until it went away, but Francis wasn’t, so that was a fun awkward introduction. Georgie escaped pretty quick after Robbie answered, said he was sorry for interrupting, and Robbie only realized after he was gone that he’d put his shirt on inside out. Francis was kind of concerned about that, too, but Georgie’s Georgie, so afterward it was zero wincing homophobia and 100% mocking the shit out of Robbie for actually answering the door when he could have been getting laid instead. Georgie’s seen Francis twice since, because Robbie’s got a single to Francis’ double, so Francis is around a lot, but thankfully the mockery only happens when it’s just the two of them.

So like, Robbie’s family knows about him and Francis. Cassidy and Tara know about it. Georgie knows about it. A couple of Francis’ friends that hear ‘not out’ and are like ‘say no more, stealth daters’! Robbie’s pretty good with the status quo. He likes Francis, and he’s pretty sure Francis likes him, and shit’s good. Robbie’s always been a little suspicious when shit’s good, but right now he’s trying to force that down, because shit’s good, and he’s happy. They won the last two games. He got a B on the econ exam he half thought he’d flunk. It’s a new year, and everything’s coming up Robbie.

“I think you get genuinely high when you come,” Francis says.

“Do you not?” Robbie says. “I’m high on life. Semen pun so intended.”

“Thanks, wouldn’t have gotten it,” Francis says sarcastically. He follows up by kissing his shoulder, so Robbie doesn’t take too much offense at Francis not appreciating his excellent joke. 

There’s a banging on the door, and Robbie and Francis both spring up in a fucking millisecond. The high was too good to last. 

“Come down for dinner,” Georgie calls.

”You two are codependent,” Francis murmurs.

“Francis is here,” Robbie calls back.

“Then put some clothes on and come down,” Georgie says. “I have extra meal passes.”

Robbie looks over at Francis, who shrugs back at him. “He had me at free food,” Francis says.

“You’re a hussy for food,” Robbie says.

“I’m a growing boy,” Francis says, resting his chin on top of Robbie’s head.

“Is that a short joke?” Robbie asks. “That better not be a short joke.”

“Robbie, you’re like 5’10”,” Francis says.

“Don’t rub it in,” Robbie mutters.

“Meaning it was not a short joke, idiot,” Francis says.

“Oh,” Robbie says.

“Not my fault you hang out with giants,” Francis says.

“Clothes on!” Georgie calls through the door.

“Sure you want that?” Francis calls back.

“I mean, if you’re offering, I am not opposed to casual nudity,” Georgie calls back.

“Hey,” Robbie hisses. 

“You told me he’s cool about it,” Francis says.

“I didn’t tell you to _flirt_ with him,” Robbie snaps.

“Are you blushing?” Francis asks.

“No,” Robbie says. “Jesus. Put some clothes on.”

“Aw,” Georgie says, mock disappointed sounding, when they come out a minute later. “Don’t offer if you’re not going to follow through.”

“Robbie wouldn’t let me,” Francis says.

“You’re a terrible friend,” Georgie says, and Robbie rolls his eyes.

“I wanted to ask you guys something,” Georgie says, once they’ve sat down to eat.

“Is this a trap?” Robbie asks. “Did you trap us with food?”

“No,” Georgie says. “You paranoid fucker.”

“The internet can answer any gay sex questions you have,” Robbie says, and Georgie rolls his eyes at him.

Francis kicks his ankle. “What’d you want to ask?” he asks Georgie.

“Kaitlin wanted to know if you wanted to go on a double date,” Georgie says.

“Who’s Kaitlin?” Robbie asks.

“My girlfriend,” Georgie says. 

“You have another girlfriend?” Robbie asks.

“You’ve met her like half a dozen times, dude,” Georgie says. 

“They all kind of look the same to me,” Robbie says.

“Nice, Robbie,” Georgie says, and Francis gives him an unimpressed look.

“What?” Robbie asks. “And wait, what are you doing telling people about me?”

“I didn’t,” Georgie says. “It came up, I mentioned a friend of mine had a boyfriend -- not that it was you -- she asked if we could double date.”

“So she can tell everyone all about the exotic gays she met this one time,” Robbie says flatly. 

“Don’t be a dick, Robbie,” Georgie says. “She was just being friendly. And she’s not going to go around telling people about you, come on.”

“I’m cool with it if Robbie is,” Francis says, and Robbie glances over. 

_That_ sounded like a trap, like if Robbie isn’t cool with it he’s being a paranoid motherfucker, is ashamed of Francis and doesn’t trust Georgie and whatever flavor of the week he’s dick deep in this time. Definite trap. 

“Fine,” Robbie says. “Whatever.”

“Friday?” Georgie asks.

Francis, mid-bite of food, gives Georgie a thumbs up. Traitor.

“Whatever,” Robbie repeats. Georgie nudges his foot under the table, traps it between his ankles. 

“Thanks,” Georgie says.

“Yeah,” Robbie says, and wiggles his foot a bit in Georgie’s grip, swallows when it tightens.


End file.
